As soon as another fistfight started, the bartender slid from the back with a small pouch. He came up to Irukandji and swept the pouch to his hands. He weighed the pouch a bit and ran his fingers across the surface, getting a feel for the items inside.
"Yes, this'll do." , he said as he let out a menacing grin.
The bartender let out a nervous smile and said with a low tone: "Next shipment next week, yes?"
"As always, yes.", he said as he swept the pouch in the pocket of his pants. He then shifted his gaze back towards the bar and laid his elbows on the counter behind him, but something was off. He heard a subtle murmur somewhere, it wasn't there before. It was growing louder than the noise in the rest of the tavern. In fact, it was growing rather irritating. It was actually growing really really irritating. One by one his sharp teeth were revealed as his eye twitched and his frown grew wider. He finally jerked his head left, and saw a girl right out of a fancy french ball. Then he realized this girl had been talking to his ear this entire time, initiating a thought process: Was she a whore? Pretty good looking for one, save for the skin condition. But what about the fact that she isn't soliciting me? No, she isn't a whore. . . maybe an escort? This whole situation is awkward. I can't deal with this right now . . .
What the fuck do you want?, he hissed.